La Vie Boheme
by 000kaity000
Summary: This is a story about truth, beauty, freedom, and most of all, love. What happens when a little and wild bohemian follows are beloved Christian to Montmartre. Chaos, adventure, friendship and romance shall come. And what happens when a face rom the past turns threatens to shatter the world of our talented protagonists, will their lives ever be the same?
1. Chapter 1

Hello, I might as well introduce myself, my names Kait and im obsessed with Moulin Rouge. I haven't ever written a story like this one before so i hope you guys like it. Its rather long and modern ;) Anyway. Disclaimer, all characters belong to Baz except the few i created, blah blah blah, and this story is dedicated to my best friend Abby. Enjoy

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"Help!" Yelled the young girl, panic stricken. Flames crackled and rose high around her, causing the unbearable heat to worsen. Her eyes darted around the room, frantically looking for a way to escape, and she found a window not yet consumed by the blistering hell surrounding her. As she ran towards, the image of her mother briefly flashed across her mind and brought tears to her eyes. The outside air felt momentarily foreign, almost as if she forgot that the world wasn't constantly buried with smoke covered pain and anguish. Her spot cover cheeks had little river like streaks of which you could see her bare flesh, her face still damp. But she stood raw, numb and quite and she looked to the place she once called home, now reduced to a pile off as and ruble. She heard the familiar sound of horse hooves and carriage wheels on he gravel path, before her dark world turned to pure black

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4 Months Later

Christian anxious taped his foot on the polished floor as he waited for his parents. He loved going out into the town, for he found its citizens to be quite intriguing. Every so often he'd stumble across a local painter or musician and would try to speak to them before his father dragged him away.

"He's a young boy, barely 15, he's just curious of the world around him," his mother would say. But his father always protested

"I don't want my one and only son to turn out to be a Bohemian!"

But as Christian idly and impatiently waited, his mind started to wander. He wanted so much more, all his father cared about was whether he joined the family business. But finances never once appealed to him, he preferred the fine arts. Particularly writing. He has dreams of being an author. He would write the greatest of plays for the greatest of actors. His books would be published and cherished around the world. He would live by the Bohemian ways, no matter what his father told him. But most importantly, he would finally fall in love. The simple idea made his heart leap. Love is what makes the whole world spin, isn't it? Of course it was, love is the most important factor in one's life.

"Christian! Lets go!" he was snapped out of his daze by his fathers voice and darted towards the door, excited to leave the stuffy house.

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The late winter air was chilly but perfect for a day of exploring the town, and more importantly, the towns people. Christian had finally escaped his fathers watchful eye after the man decided to lecture this poor lady about her "distasteful lifestyle", and decided to see what he could find. As he looked through a store window, something caught his eye. There in the reflection, curled up in the corner of the street behind him, sat a tiny little girl. She looked to be maybe five years of age, and appeared very ill. From what he could see, she was clammy and pale, very thin and, most alarmingly, had the faintest trace of blood upon her lips. Her frail body was wrapped in a pitiful excuse for a blanket, of which her bony fingers grasped at for dear life.

Christian crossed the street and attempted to get close to the old child, when she noticed him, she fearfully scooted away and pressed herself back against the stone wall of a shop. He stopped in hid tracks and quickly scanned the area. Looking around, he spotted a café, and an idea popped into his mind.

No more than ten minutes later he walked out of the little coffee shop with two fresh cups of hot tea, and once again began to wander over towards the little girl still seated on the sidewalk. When her approached her once more, she nearly began to cower away, but then caught sight of the steaming beverage in his hand. Knowing she should take the drink, even if only for her own good, she let the boy sit dow beside so there the two sat, each calmly drinking their individual cups of tea.

Christian felt a strange surge of protectiveness and curiosity towards the tiny child. She appeared to be all alone, and not to mention possibly gravely ill. Maybe there was some way her could help her.

"Hey, my name is Christian James. Im gonna take you back to my family if you'd like. Im going to help you," he said with his signature naive yet kind smile.

"Estella", said the girl, looking up at him for the first time. And that's when her saw it, a pair of deep, dark violet eyes.

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"We cannot just take in some little street rat!" yelled Mr. James

"Thomas! How dare you! Shes just a little girl and shes very ill", protested Elizabeth James.

"Exactly. She could infect us all. Do you want your own son to be ill too?" The man replied, raising his voice a little

But she matched his tone. "Now hush" she said, reprimandingly . "She's going to stay with us, were going to help her, and Christian will be just fine. And that's final", and with that Thomas left the room, knowing that there's was no way her would win this argument.

And Mrs. James was correct. Estella recovered from her illness, and was revealed to be an energetic and independent little girl. It was not uncommon to hear tiny bare feet quickly padding against the floor, followed by a flash of dark curls and a few high pitched giggles. Christian had become very fond of the child and the two were often seen together. He considered her to be his little sister and they would spend time with one another as often as possible. And much to the disappointment and disapproval of their father, Estella loved to hear Christians stories. He told her about the Bohemian revolution taking place inn France, and how one day he would leave to be a part of it. He watched as her wide, strange eyes lit up with joy at his tales pf painters, artists and musicians.

"Im gonna be a bohemian!" she had proudly proclaimed done day while in the mist of doing her daily routine of rampaging through the house and diving off he furniture.

"Absolutely not!" Thomas scolded. "where did you ever get such an atrocious idea like that?"

"Christian told me all about them and I said I wanna be one. So he bought me paint and brushes. Now I'm a real BOHEMIAN!" she squealed, leaping off the plush couch on the last word.

Christian sat upstairs in his bedroom, scribbling in his notebook, tryin to cure a very stubborn case of writers block, when he heard it

"Christian Arthur James!" his father yelled from the floor below

'What could I have possibly done now?' he thought a she marched down the stares. When he reached the bottom, he saw his father giving him a stern look, and his beloved baby sister giving him one that could be summed up in one phrase.

"Whoops" she spoke softly.

Before he could even get out a word to ask to what the young girl had done, his father went into one of his rants. He blocked the majority of it out. Only hearing a couple things like "Bohemian", "self respecting", "idiotic", "disgusting" as well as a few choice words he didn't dare repeat. Estella looked to him with large apologetic puppy dig eyes, but Christian merely ignored her and gave her slight glare, returning his attention to the wall ahead him. He only noticed her agin when he saw her dart up the stairs, presumably to her room.

After his father was finally finished with his draw out lecture, the boy sulkily dragged himself up the stairs sporting a bruised ego and 2 weeks of grounding. He was about to go back to his sad attempt at finishing his story, though he knew he would never finish it in his state, when there was a sharp but comparably quite knock on the hard wood of his door. He knew immediately who it was.

"Come on in Stell" he spoke nonchalantly. He turned around to face the girl, her wild hair was covering her face, but he could see the fain trace of tears in her lavender eyes. All anger that he had inside him for the child quickly melted away when he looked upon her. "Stella", he sighed "come here" he said holding his arms out. She quickly took his invitation and they sat together for a few moments of comfortable silence. But, like always, Estella spoke up.

"Am I still your sister?" she asked, trying to keep her voice strong."

Christain was taken back by her question, not sure how to answer, but then he realized how. By doing what he does best.

 ** _bonsoir mon ange, le temps de te fermer les yeux,_**

 ** _Et sauvegardez ces questions pour un autre jour_**

 ** _Je pense que je sais ce que tu me demandes_**

 ** _Je pense que tu sais ce que j'ai essayé de dire_**

 ** _J'ai promis de ne jamais te quitter_**

 ** _Et vous devriez toujours savoir_**

 ** _Où que vous alliez_**

 ** _Peu importe où vous êtes_**

 ** _Je ne serai jamais loin_**

"French! I like it" Estella said with a bright smile, but her smile faltered "Im sorry, I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

"I know, its okay, Im sorry too" Christian replied

"Oh wait! I just remembered, stay right here. I have something for you." She darted up and ran out off the room.

A few moments later she came back in with a heavy, messily wrapped box. She et it down on the bed. "I was gonna give it too you on your birthday, but I figured you'd need something to pass the time while you're grounded. I bought it with my allowance that I've been saving up".

Christian remover the poorly tied silk bow and lifted the top off the colorful container. His eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat when he saw its contents. Inside was a beautiful, shiny, solid black typewriter with little red roses cleverly painted on around the perimeter.

"I painted on the flowers myself, with the paint you gave me. And look here" right below the keys, a simple quote was written

'That which we call a rise by any other name would smell just as sweet'

Christian instantly recognized the line, " and who taught you that?" He asked with a smirk

"You did silly!" Estella replied with a giggle

"I know, I love you, it's beautiful". He wrapped his arms little girl as he squirmed and laughed

"I love you too Christian"

END OF CHAPTER 1

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Did you guys like it?! I really hope so. Chapter 2 will be up soon i promise. And all of our beloved Bohemian friends will be in it, along with maybe some cuteness between Christain and Satine, as well as Stella causing chaos with some new friends. Oh and the song in here is "lullaby" by Billy Joel, one of my favorite songs from when i was little. Have a lovely day everyone333


	2. Chapter 2

_**6 years later**_

Christian had indeed kept his promise about joining the Bohemian revolution, much to his father's anger and disgust.

"No, there is absolutely no way I can allow you to do something as idiotic and preposterous as this!" Thomas scolded.

"Father, I'm an adult now, you can't control me like some like puppet. I'm not a child, I'm not your little prodigy, and I am never under any circumstances working for the family business!" Christian shouted back, shoving more of his belongings into a luggage bag.

"My son, you wound me'" his father said in mock hurt. "If you leave, do not expect to return. I'll have no child of mine following such hellish lifestyle!"

With a grunt, Christian turned away from his father, ignoring him. If he didn't want him around, so be it. He could care less what that atrocious man think, he was gonna be a world famous author, and follow the life he wanted. In Paris, his dreams would come true. He would find love and live how he had wanted since he was small. Yes, everything was gonna be perfect. No marvelous. No, perfectly marvelous. He should write that down.

But then, a thought crossed his mind, one that made him feel an awful pang of guilt.

"Estella!" he called from his room. He heard the quick little footfalls upon the wooden floor before a head covered in curly locks flew I front of the doorway.

"Yeah, Chris?" The little girl replied in her usual upbeat tone. She, now nearly 11, hadn't grown all that much(most likely due to her past illness) and her brown ringlets ran down past her shoulders and rested on her back, spreading out in every which way. Her violet eyes sparkled with the gleam of the brightest stars and held the excitement of one just discovering the wonders of life. Her skin was often covered with bruises and scrapes from her misadventures, and decorated with paint from her many childish artworks.

"Hey kid, I need to tell you something very important, come here". He picked her up and set her on the dresser in his room, her legs swung wildly as she anxiously waited for the news, her head tilted slightly in curiosity. His heart clenched when he thought of was he was about to say. "You know I love you more than anything right?" He asked. She nodded and smiled at him brightly, giggling.

"Of course, you're the best and silliest brother in the world!"

Oh, how could he do this to her? He just had to say it. "I'm going to Paris tomorrow night at sunset". The young girl paused for a minute, seemingly taking in the new information.

"Okay, when are you coming back?"

Christian felt his breath catch in his throat. "I'm not," he choked out.

The girl's smile fell, and her short temper flared. "What the hell do you mean you're not!? You have to come back! You can't leave!" She cried out, eyes beginning to fill with big tears.

The young man felt wetness begin to spill down his cheeks and struggled to hold back a sob. "Listen, Father doesn't want me to return. I cannot," he stopped unable to keep his voice from breaking. The inevitable then happen. The girl said not a word and she pushed past Christian and stormed out of the room, and eventually, out of the manor. He knew exactly what she was doing, she had begun to cry. And ever since he had known her, she hated showing weakness. She hid pain with anger. Christian felt defeated as he stood alone in the center of his room.

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"She'll come around, just you wait dear," Mrs. James said soothingly, putting her arm around him. Christian said nothing, just stared at the ground below him, hoping it could give him the answers to his questions.

"She'll be alright, everyone in this town adores her. And she's a very resourceful girl, a night or two on her own won't harm her," she said optimistically.

"I'll stay here until she returns. I couldn't live with myself if something, anything, happened to her," Christian said, feeling extremely guilty. He knew how much she looked up to him, he knew how much she loved him. She was the perfectly beautiful, adoring baby sister. Her heart was full of kindness and love that could brighten up the darkest of his days, and he repays her by leaving the country.

"No, this will be the only boat out of England for a while, a storm is predicted to be near. It would be too dangerous to travel.

And you and I both know your father isn't gonna let me buy another ticket for you, and you don't have the money to get one on your own. You must go, it's what you wanted since you were just a boy. Stella will understand, she loves you very much, you just know how she is when she gets riled up. She's a wild little thing, that's all, it'll all be alright." She placed a comforting hand on the boys back as he held onto her embrace. 'Mamas boy' people would always say.

"Thank you," he whispered.

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Estella sat up high in a tree branch as she looked out to the moon sparkling in the mirror that was the stagnant water of the lake.

Ma la mia stella, lassù nel cielo

Presto ci manderà un

salvator per tutti noi

E ache per quelli in fondo al mar..

The words flowed from lips as her youthful face because once again damp with salty tears. How could Christain lace her like this, her only brother, doesn't he know he's all she has. They've always been together, ever since he found her over six years ago. Always incredibly close. She couldn't bear the thought of him leaving her, she just wanted her big brother to be there by her side and sing her lullabies forever.

Then a brilliant, slightly evil idea struck her mind, and a mischievous grin spread across her face.

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"All aboard to Paris," yelled the ship's captain. Christian quickly headed towards the large, almost cruise-like ship, when he got the strangest gut feeling inside of him. Nothing formidable was to come, but he still felt like the gods were trying to warn him. Not a strange sinking feeling, pun intended, just something telling his things wouldn't go exactly to plan.

Nevertheless, he shook the thought away and continued boarding the boat. Hours passed as he sat restlessly in his cabin until he decided he could no longer sit still. He needed to get out of this stuffy room, and as his stomach promptly informed him, he needed to eat.

Not much later, he returned from the sip cafeteria line with a decently sized plate of food. As he walked around, looking for a place to sit, he heard a familiar voice.

"Christian have you ever tried ice tea, I heard its become very popular in the Americas now."

"No I haven't Stell," he said, dropping and shattering the plate "ESTELLA!'

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Christian paced his room while the young girl sat on the edge of his bed. "How the actual fu….." she looked at him with innocent eyes. "how are you here?" he whispered loudly.

"Well, whatever it was, I definitely did not involve me sneaking on board and accidentally locking a maintenance worker in a supply closet. Also don't go downstairs" she spoke nervously and gave her notorious childlike smile that always seemed to get her out of trouble.

Christian massaged his temples and sighed in exasperation at the tiny girl before him. He looked back down at her to see the oh so dreaded "you're about to feel really really guilty face"

"Okay okay, you're lucky I love you so much, but you have a lot of explaining to do." Christain have in and say down next to the girl.

"I know you love me, and I love you. That's why I couldn't lose you, you're all I have" she said honestly, and the boy knew it.

'Man this kid is laying it on thick' he thought. "What am I going to do with you Stell" h breathed out.

"You can always take me to live in Paris with you".

"What choice do I have. No, no. The second this boat docks I'm buying you another ticket and you're going straight back to England".

"And how are you gonna do that? Neither of us have enough money, and I have no belongings with me. Not even my sketch book. And mother and father wouldn't like me being alone a a ship, they'd be even angrier than if I went to live you with. At least with you we know I'm safe," Stella retorted.

"I hate that you're right," he paused "Fine, you can come to Paris with me, but the second I can, I'm sending you home." It felt weird to say it. Home. He would never once again be "home", at least not the home he grew to know so well. And Estella, he wondered if she even fully understood that word. There were still so many things she never spoke about. "Come hear," he sighed and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm not mad at you, terrified, but never angry. It'll be okay, we'll be okay". So that's how they stayed for hours. Eventually, when the sun began to say its nightly goodbye, Christian had sacrificed his bed so the child could be comfortable, and sat in a chair for the remainder the night. As he was left only with his thoughts, he began to feel guilty about their situation. She had only followed him on here in the first place because she loved him so much, and that's how thye had always been, from from the very beginning. They were always together, he could still remember when it all started.

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*flashback*

"She's not well, not well at all. There's not much we can do for her. Keep her comfortable, that's all", spoke an unfamiliar voice.

"Poor thing, will she survive the night?" Christain knew that voice to be his mothers.

"There's no telling, especially with her being out in the bitter cold so long. Shes in Gods hands now," spoke the man. He packed up his bagged and gave one more sympathetic look too the ailing girl before leaving the room. Christain saw his parents swiftly followed the stranger out of the hallway and down the grand stairwell, presumably to pay him.

The young teen peeked his head curiously around the door and into the spare bedroom to look upon the tiny girl laying snugly under the comforter. She had blankets up to her chin and appeared to be sleeping. She looked almost peaceful if it weren't for how terribly still and pale she looked. Chris quietly crept into the room, careful not to wake the sleeping child. But his delicate actions proved useless, as she was then awakened by a force he had no control of, a rather harsh coughing fit. Thinking quickly, he pulled out a clean white handkerchief that we was glad his mother always had him carry, and pressed it to her soon bloodied lips. When it was over, she let out a tiny whimper and looked up at him with large but thankful eyes.

The mixture of fear, pain and gratitude in her intense violet orbs shook the boy to his core, and affection grew In his heart. As he searched his mind for a way to comfort the sick child, his thoughts settled on a memory. His mother used to sing to me whenever he was hurt or sick or had suffered a night terror.

 **Theres such a sad love, deep in your eyes**

 **A kind of pale jewel, open and close**

 **Within your eyes, I'll place the skies, within your eyes**

A soft smiled formed on her little face, and her wide eyes seemed to brighten up and loose some of their fogginess. His song was working. He stepped closer to her, and sat down on the soft bed.

 **As thr pain sweeps through, makes no sense for you**

 **Every thrill is gone, wasn't too much fun at all**

 **But I'll be there for you**

 **As the world falls down…**

Christain brought his song to a close when he Noticed Estellas eyes had slipped shut, and he breathing had relax some. She had fallen asleep to his lullaby. He stood up and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, smiling proudly at his accomplishment, and walked over to the corner of the room to sit in a large plush chair. For the rest of the night, there he stayed. When she woke gasping and coughing, he repeated his earlier routine. Sitting in the darkness, resisting the urge to sleep, the doctors earlier words kept slipping into his mind.

" She's in gods hands now"

hours later, he slowly opened his eyes, awaked by the warm sunlight that has snuck passed the curtains over the window. He calmly stretched his arms and yawn, but soon was stricken with horrible panic. He had fallen asleep. His eyes quickly darted over towards the now empty bed, and he felt his heart nearly leap out of his chest. Frantically, he got up and sprinted out of the room and bounded down the stairs, nearly tripping over his feet I the process. He came to a halt and felt his heart stop at what he saw.

There sitting in a stuffed rocking chair, swaddled in plenty of warm blankets, sat Stella, with a ceramic mug pressed to her lips.

She pulled the cup away and gave Christain an adorable smile, filled with innocence and gratefulness. "Hot Chocolate," she spoke in a weak voice, but a voice nonetheless. The young boy felt tears well I his eye, and he let out a relived chuckle. She was going to be okay, everything was going to be okay.

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*End Of Flashback*

No one could figure out how the young girl had managed to survive that night, they all chalked it up to God or some other miraculous work from heaven. But the two both knew how, and from then, they'd been as close and two could be. Their bond was unbreakable, not even by death itself.

Christain was brought back from his memories when he heard a rather oud snore from his little sister. He smiled at the sound, and waked back over to her and placed a kiss atop her head, and messed up her already wild hair.

"Goodnight Stell"


End file.
